


Hope in Change

by Lenny9987



Series: Lenny's Imagine Claire and Jamie Prompts [62]
Category: Outlander (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-30
Updated: 2019-04-19
Packaged: 2019-12-26 14:27:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18284141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lenny9987/pseuds/Lenny9987
Summary: Prompt: Imagine that the first significant person Bree meets in the colonies is Murtagh. It is through Bree that Murtagh finds out that Claire and Jamie are also in the colonies. What if it was Murtagh rather than Lizzie who witnessed Roger being a bit rough with Bree through the window that day?





	1. Chapter 1

Murtagh enjoyed delivery days, especially when the sun was high and weather beginning to grow stifling. The forge was a better refuge from the rain or the cold, when the heat inside wasn’t exacerbated by the conditions outside. Delivery days were also when he was able to gather and deliver the intelligence necessary for carrying out the Regulators’ plans. 

He’d just delivered instructions to a few of his men to prepare for an upcoming action and hoped to relax over a hearty meal at the inn before getting on to some actual deliveries he had about Wilmington. 

There was no helping the flash of red hair catching his attention as the young woman was led into the street by a dark-haired and disheveled man. The woman’s back was to him but the way the man took hold of her arms and shook her, the way she drew back as he got into her face. He seemed to be scolding her but she didn’t look ashamed or apologetic. She appeared to be pulling out of his grip and speaking forcefully right back. 

Murtagh couldn’t help drawing closer—not eavesdropping, exactly, but he wanted to be sure the lass wasn’t in danger. Except he was eavesdropping, because if he hadn’t been he wouldn’t have heard the man call the lass ‘Brianna.’ And something about hearing that name made him pause and look at the lass more intently, drawing her eye and causing her to balk, moving closer to the man and startling him out of his anger or whatever it was that had him yelling. 

“D’ye need somethin’?” the man asked, a challenge in his voice—maybe a hint of a threat? 

“Are ye alright lass?” Murtagh ignored the man, his eyes locking with hers. Something in the way she looked at him… 

“She’s fine,” the man asserted but the young woman rolled her eyes. 

“I can speak for  _ myself _ , Roger,” she hissed. “Sorry, we didn’t mean to cause a scene,” she apologized.

“Did he call ye ‘Brianna’ just then?” Murtagh asked, his brow furrowing as he tried to place the face, as he tried to decide if he saw it because it was truly there or if he saw it because he wanted to see it. “Who are yer parents, lass?”

At that the pair looked warily at each other. 

“Why does it matter to you who my parents are?”

“Are ye Claire and Jamie’s daughter then?”

Brianna pushed past Roger to get closer to Murtagh. 

“You know my parents? Are they here? Can you take me to them?”

“Brianna…” Roger tried to caution her but all her attention was focused on Murtagh. 

“I ken them, aye. I havena had word from them since I left them at home on the Ridge. And aye… I suppose I can arrange to take ye to them, if ye like,” Murtagh answered her questions, hardly aware of the answers he was giving.

“Who are ye?” the man asked, taking a step forward to try and get between Murtagh and Brianna again. “Why should she trust ye?”

Murtagh, once again, keps his attention on Brianna, ignoring Roger. “Yer mam said she’d mentioned me when she told ye about Jamie. My name’s Murtagh.”

Recognition flashed in Brianna’s eyes and Roger appeared to relax by a fraction.

“But… we thought you had died at Culloden,” Brianna said with disbelief. “Though… Mama thought Jamie had too, until we found notes suggesting he hadn’t. We didn’t think to look for you too.”

“I ken,” Murtagh nodded. “Yer mother already explained.”

“You’ve really seen them then?” Brianna grew more animated, pushing past Roger. 

Murtagh chuckled. “Aye. And I must say, Claire never thought ye’d make the journey yerself—nor did I get the impression she wanted ye to. Seems a terrible risk to take. Though, I’m sure they’ll be more’n happy to see ye.”

Brianna’s face fell a bit. “I hope so, but it’s not exactly to bring good news.” She reached into her pocket and started to pull out some papers.

“Geez Bree,” Roger protested, pushing at her hands to block people from seeing the photocopied page on top.

Brianna rolled her eyes but Murtagh waved them out of the road and toward the inn. 

“Why don’ we take this inside, eh? I’ve no had food for a while and my belly’s achin’. We can find a table wi’ a bit of privacy, I should guess,” Murtagh suggested. 

Brianna nodded and led the way into the inn, nearly toppling a young woman in the process. 

“Christ, Lizzie,” Brianna exclaimed, catching the lass by the arms. “What’re you…”

“I was watchin’ to be sure ye were alright, miss,” Lizzie apologized. “I saw a man bein’ rough wi’ ye.”

Brianna shot a pointed look at Roger. “It’s alright, Lizzie. Go on upstairs and rest. We’re going to be going to Fraser’s Ridge before too long and you won’t get a proper bed again for a while, I expect.” 

“Aye.” Lizzie made an awkward dip to Murtagh and Roger before turning on her heel and heading for the stairs. 

“Don’t ask,” Brianna told the two men. 

Murtagh glanced at Roger again but this time the man’s expression bore the same look of bafflement as his own. 

Murtagh ordered ale and the stew before settling into a corner table with Brianna and Roger. 

“Ye must be the  _ historian _ helped Claire wi’ the search for Jamie,” Murtagh commented. 

“Roger Mackenzie.” 

“Mackenzie?” Murtagh shook his head. “I would ha’ remembered did Claire say yer name was Mackenzie.”

“His adopted name was Wakefield,” Brianna explained. “He’s going by Mackenzie here because… Actually, why are you using Mackenzie?”

Roger shrugged, a faint color rising in his cheeks. “I use it when performing. This… feels like a performance, ken? And… bein’ here in history seems as good a time as any to be gettin’ back to my own roots. But tha’s no why we’re here,” he redirected the conversation. “I’m here cause ye were daft enough to go through the stones on yer own.”

“Right. And I’m here to warn my parents.” Brianna pulled the paper out again and gave it to Murtagh. 

“A fire… And of course, ye dinna ken when precisely,” he muttered tossing it down on the table.

“Exactly. Smudged the date. It could be as early as next year or almost a decade from now. Either way… I couldn’t just sit by without finding some way to warn them. If there’s the slightest chance it could make a difference…” 

“Aye, lass. Even after what happened wi’ the Rising… I dinna ken as we could ha’ done anythin’ else, for all the difference it made,” Murtagh sympathized. 

“I figure, it’s not trying to make a big change… so maybe it’ll work.”

“Mackenzie,” an oily voice called from the doorway. Color drained from Roger’s face as he looked over his shoulder. “I thought tha’ was you. We been lookin’ for ye since we docked and found ye’d vanished just as we were needin’ yer help unloadin’ the cargo. We were worried that ye’d been taken by thieves or vagrants, that ye were lyin’ in a ditch somewhere wi’ yer head bashed in from one as tried to rob ye.” 

The man was blonde and bore a prominent scar down one side of his face. He was playing with an iron ring he wore on his pinky finger—a ring that caused both Brianna and Murtagh to sit up straighter. Murtagh let his hand fall to his side where the hilt of a dagger rested, ready and waiting. 

“Is this yer lass then? Mmmm, perhaps ye were right and she was worth the fuss. But if ye were thinkin’ ye could take advantage of my earlier kindness by walkin’ off without upholdin’ your end of the bargain… Think again.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Yer name wouldna be Bonnet by any chance?” Murtagh spoke before Roger managed to find the words.

There was a brief flash of surprise in Bonnet’s eyes but then a smile broke across his face.

“My reputation precedes me,” he said, eyeing Murtagh carefully. “Or, have we met before and I am bein’ remiss in my inability to remember ye?”

“That ring there,” Murtagh indicated his hand. “I ken who ye stole it from and the other crimes as were committed when ye took it. As well as a few who wouldna mind testifyin’ did ye come to stand trial for it. No that tha’ would be necessary,” Murtagh continued, his volume rising as the color in Bonnet’s face drained slightly. “Seein’ as ye were already condemned to die and I’m sure the law would be more’n happy should a concerned citizen seek to aid them in apprehendin’ ye again.”

“That so,” Bonnet challenged, quietly, before looking over his shoulder toward a table where several of his crew waited for his return.

Murtagh looked to the innkeeper behind the bar—not a Regulator himself but a sympathizer who let his boy run messages when it was too dangerous for the men themselves to be seen in one another’s company. The innkeeper nodded. His boy had gone. Reinforcements would be standing by if they were needed.

“I don’ consider myself a quarrelsome man,” Bonnet mused. “I’m simply a captain tryin’ to be sure a man I hired for a job finishes it. That he doesna lay the burden of his work on his fellow men. They might take offense, ye see, and it’s to me falls the task of keepin’ the peace among them… and protectin’ those as does them wrong from… excessive retribution.”

“Is that a threat?” Brianna asked, steel in her voice. Murtagh’s lip twitched up in the corner. Brash and loyal, like both her parents.

Bonnet looked taken aback and horrified by the suggestion.

“Certainly not. As I said, it’s a promise of protection. I’m here on a mission of peace,” Bonnet insisted, humbly. “Here. As a token of my goodwill.” He took the ring from his finger and offered it to Brianna. “Ye can keep it for yerself or, wi’ the assistance of that man there,” he nodded to Murtagh, “ye can return it to the lady as gave it into my keeping.”

Murtagh huffed, showing them all what he thought of Bonnet’s offer.

Brianna’s eyes were cold as ice as she reached to take the ring from him (he might be full of shit but she wasn’t going to let the opportunity to reclaim her mother’s ring pass her by, especially when she was safely tucked between Murtagh on one side, Roger on the other).

The ring clutched between her fingers, Bonnet grabbed her hand, hard. Murtagh and Roger both started, ready to rise and attack if Bonnet made the wrong move.

Bonnet ignored them, his eyes on Brianna and the color flooding her cheeks. He pressed his lips to her fingers and then released her hand.

Roger stood and moved toward Bonnet, towering over him.

“I apologize, cap’n for wandering in search of the lady upon landin.’ It wasna my intention to betray my promise to ye, only to fulfill a prior promise to see she was safe,” Roger told Bonnet. He had none of Bonnet’s skill for falsehood so the excuse rang hollow, but it wasn’t sincerity that mattered.

Murtagh slipped his hand to Brianna’s elbow and gave her a squeeze, warning her against interrupting.

“Now I ken she is, I shall be more’n happy to return with ye to the ship and make my apologies to the others. I’ve no doubt ye’ll… keep the peace, as ye say,” Roger finished.

Bonnet smirked. “I’m a man of my word, Mackenzie. And I’m no unsympathetic to the pangs of love. As ye left the others to unload when we docked, it’ll be you has guard tonight while the others take their pleasure on land. But, I’ll give ye an hour more wi’ yer lady love fore ye need to be back on deck at yer post. The lady deserves ye to give her a proper farewell after all,” he leered in Brianna’s direction then leaned to Roger, his eyes still watching Brianna and added loud enough for all of them to hear, “It wouldna take more’n a few minutes wi’ a luscious lass like that, but take yer time to be sure she enjoys it too.” He nudged Roger who’d achieved a level of calm that left him frozen, then Bonnet strode back to the others.

Brianna’s face burned and Murtagh turned to spit on the floor where Bonnet had stood.

“Just listening to him makes me want to go take a hot shower,” Brianna said under her breath, shuddering and unconsciously wiping her hand on her skirts. “How did that man get Mama’s ring?” she asked Murtagh.

“It’s a long story that yer parents can tell ye better, but they took pity on him and did him a kindness and he did worse than spit in their faces for it,” Murtagh explained. “Attacked and robbed them on their way to yer aunt Jocasta’s home at River Run. Killed a friend of yer da’s in the process.”

“He’s a right bastard wi’ a seat in Hell reserved special for ‘im all right,” Roger agreed. “I cannae even find words to describe the things I saw him do. I should ha’ kent better’n to risk skippin’ out so fast. Now I’ve put ye on his radar. It’s more’n a common blessing we ran into Murtagh.” Roger turned to the older man, gratitude in his eyes. “Ye can get her away and keep her safe, aye? Ye’ll get her safe to her folks?”

“Ye have my word,” Murtagh nodded, his expression solemn and sincere. “Lass, it might be better if ye come away wi’ me tonight. If Bonnet’s men ken Mackenzie here’ll be away and that ye’re stayin’ here, and they bear him ill will…”

Brianna looked between the men on either side of her with disbelief and resistance brimming. “You’re not serious? You don’t really think that he’d… just to get back at Roger?”

“There’s the history wi’ yer parents to consider as well. A man like that…”

“It’s better safe than sorry,” Roger agreed. “As soon as fulfill my agreement wi’ him, I’ll make my way back to ye on the Ridge. We can make new plans from there. It may be a time before we can journey back to Scotland and the stones.”

Brianna shook her head and pushed up from the table, heading for the stairs. Roger followed close on her heels, all too aware of Bonnet and his men still watching them.

At the landing Brianna turned on Roger, backing him against the wall.

“I can’t believe you’re going to just go along with what that bastard Bonnet says,” she hissed at him. “From everything you two have said, he can’t be trusted. I don’t like the idea of you putting yourself in danger like this.”

Roger smiled. “I dinna like it either but I think I’m in slightly less danger if I do as he says. And I’d rather keep my eye on him than worry about him havin’ his eye on you.” Roger leaned forward and pressed his forehead to hers.

She sighed and brought her hands up to his chest, leaning in and tucking her head into his neck, relaxing as his arms came up around her.

“I know I didn’t want you to come because I didn’t want you to stop me… but I’m glad you’re here.”

“Aye, me too. I’ve missed ye and been tryin’ to think of a way to put things right ‘tween us since… everythin’ at the gatherin’ there.”

“I don’t want to fight,” Brianna murmured. “I just want to be together.”

“Ye cannae mean…” Roger pulled back, a confused look on his face.

Brianna laughed. “Not now, no.” She shivered. “Certainly not after… Ugh, hearing him say that—the _way_ he said it… No, anything he suggests makes me want to do the exact opposite.”

“Yer honor is safe wi’ me,” Roger assured her.

Brianna rolled her eyes. “Hate to break it to ya but I don’t keep my honor between my legs and I don’t think you do either. Though,” her mouth quirked into a playful smile and her hand began to slide down his waist. “Perhaps I should check…”

He took her hand and brought it back to rest over his heart.

“No. Honor’s here. Love too,” he added, his voice low and rough. “I _will_ find ye again. If ye’ll wait for me.”

“If you take too long, I might have to come find you myself.”

“I ken better’n to keep you waiting.” He bent his head and kissed her, his hands sliding to her waist as hers circled his neck.

She pulled back and tucked her forehead against his breast bone. “I love you, Roger. Even when I get frustrated with you or you say things that make me furious—like ‘I’m going to go off with the murderer.’ I love you and promise me you’ll be careful.”

“I love you and I promise you I’ll be careful.”

They stood for another long moment, reluctant to part but knowing it was an unavoidable.

“Right,” Brianna said at last, pulling away. “I need to go talk with Lizzie. If we’re not staying here tonight, I need to help her get our things packed and ready to go wherever it is Murtagh’s going to take us.”


	3. Chapter 3

Murtagh insisted they wait for a while after Roger left the inn to return to the ship. The innkeeper gave Murtagh a signal when Bonnet’s view of their back corner table was conveniently obstructed and the three of them slipped out the back where several of the Regulators were waiting to help with Brianna and Lizzie’s things. 

“Where are we going?” Brianna hissed as she followed Murtagh, easily keeping pace. “And who are these men?”

“We’re goin’ to the house of a friend,” Murtagh responded vaguely. “That’s all ye need know until we get there and I have a chance to speak wi’ him and several other acquaintances. Glad as I am to see ye, Bonnet’s interest in ye and yer lad makes me uneasy and I need to change some of my plans to keep ye from bein’ entrusted entirely to strangers.” 

Upon reaching their destination, the lady of the house ushered Brianna and Lizzie into her parlor for a cup of tea and polite conversation. Brianna frowned at Murtagh, fully aware and indignant at being excluded from whatever his business might be. 

The three men who’d accompanied them from the inn, keeping their distance as best they could to remain inconspicuous, gathered in the kitchen doorway smoking their pipes and casually watching the road. 

“Ye’re no goin’ to cancel the raid tonight, are ye man?” the youngest of the three asked. 

“We’ll no get a chance like this again,” Murtagh said shaking his head. “It goes forward as planned but I’ll need someone to go in my place.”

“Who’s the lass to ye that she can make ye miss it?” one of the others pressed. 

“She’s family and I’ll no leave her till I deliver her safe to her parents’ keeping,” Murtagh explained. “I’ll wait here for word from Abercrombie about the raid. Tomorrow I’ll leave wi’ her and it’ll no be but a few days before I can circle round again to help wi’ distribution. If anyone needs hidin’... I’m sure my forge is bein’ watched but there’s a sympathetic house or two I can get folk inside if there’s need.”

“I’ll take yer place at the head of matters,” the third man asserted. “Abercrombie and the others’ll heed me well enough.”

Murtagh looked to the other two men but both nodded their agreement. 

“Then ye’d best get to it, lads,” Murtagh said with a sly grin. “T’would be rude to keep the taxmen waiting.”

The trio disappeared into the night and Murtagh reluctantly turned back to the warmth of the kitchen. Even if his body rejoiced that he wouldn’t be crouching in the cool and damp evening, another part of him itched to take his place leading the raid. Being left behind made him feel… old.

At last he closed the door and turned to find Brianna standing in the entrance to the parlor, watching him closely like she was deciding whether or not to trust him. Too late given she was in one of the Regulators’ safe houses and was under the protection of one of the group’s key leaders. 

“Is there somethin’ ye’d like to say, lass?” 

Her face softened and she took a few steps into the kitchen. “It’s just… Mama talked about you after she told me about Jamie. She didn’t say much—not as much as she did about Jamie. It’s strange… meeting you now and trying to make it all fit. I didn’t get to spend much time at Lallybroch and Jenny was away. Uncle Ian was… pretty much what I’d expected. But you…”

“A lot can change in twenty years,” Murtagh admitted with a sigh. “Especially when ye’ve been through what I have. I’m no discountin’ what they endured at Lallybroch… But I’ve been captured, imprisoned, shipped across an ocean and indentured, learned a new trade and built a business for myself… I lost many… many friends. Yer mam was one of the for a long time, and yer da… When they separated him from the rest of us when they closed Ardsmuir, I thought they were takin’ him to hang him and that it was the last I’d see him on this earth.” 

“Do you think… Are they happy?” Brianna asked. “They’re… together, I know, but is it—are  _ they _ —like they were before? It was one of the things Mama worried about before she came back.” 

Murtagh took one of the chairs from the table and set it near the hearth, then watched as Brianna followed suit. 

“Yes and no. I do think they’re happy, but no, it’s no in the same way as before. How could it be wi’ the time and all that passed? Ye’re no the same as ye were twenty years past, are ye?”

Brianna looked worried. “He still loves her though, doesn’t he? I know he left… I know he had a different wife before Mama came back and he chose Mama…”

“Well, tha’s one thing hasna changed—there’s no choice about it, for either of ‘em,” Murtagh chuckled. “It’s funny, what loss can do to ye… It can make ye reckless, make ye ruthless. And then getting back what ye’d thought lost… Makes ye doubly fearful, doubly cautious. Ye ken better then, how much ye took what ye had for granted and ye swear ye willna do the same again for fear ye’ll suffer again the pain ye dinna ken how ye survived before.” 

Murtagh looked up to see Brianna staring at him intently. The attention brought heat to his cheeks and he looked away, into the fire. 

“What was Mama like?” Brianna asked, her voice quiet. “When she finally told me about Jamie, it was like she became a completely different person. I… didn’t recognize her. Or at least, not all the time. Sometimes she reminded me of how she was with Daddy and the way there was always this… thing, between them. But what she said they did— _ you _ did… Meeting royalty and dining at Versailles…”

Murtagh choked on a laugh. “They wore so much powder in their hair ye couldna help breathin’ it in and feelin’ like ye had mud stuck in yer lungs and coatin’ yer nose. And tha’s nothin’ compared to what some of them wore—or neglected to wear… Yer mam didna go in for much of that—couldna to an extent wi’ her condition…” He stopped suddenly and looked to Brianna. 

“I know about Faith,” she informed him. “She didn’t say much, but I know…” She cut herself off and shook her head. “I still can’t believe she lied to me for all those years—she and Daddy. I had a right to know.”

“And what about them and their rights?” Murtagh challenged her, albeit gently. “Did yer mam no have a right to her pain? To her grief? When all ye have is memories and hopes, ye guard them. Sharin’ them wi’ those what can’t appreciate them… When tha’s all ye have…” He narrowed his eyes at her. “And what of you? Do ye expect me to believe ye dinna have secrets of yer own? If I asked ye to tell me all that had ever passed between you and yer man from earlier, would ye no keep some of it back or shy from tellin’ a word of it? I didna think so,” he said with satisfaction as she shifted uncomfortably in her chair and wrapped her arms tighter around herself. 

“Do I get to ask what it is you and your men are up to tonight? Or is that something you’re going to keep back?” Brianna countered. 

“Wi’ the likes of you and yer mam, any time I think to talk of what I’m about, I have to decide is it somethin’ I want to ken how it’ll turn out,” Murtagh mused but Brianna remained silent. “She’s told me of the war to come, but she didna ken anything about the present conflict many good citizens of North Carolina have wi’ our esteemed governor. There’s a group of us objects to the current tax system and how it functions.”

“And you’re going to strike against the governor tonight,” Brianna guessed. 

“ _ I’m _ stayin’ put here waiting,” Murtagh reminded her. “But aye, there promises to be trouble tonight, though wi’ a bit of luck it’ll all be on Tryon’s side.”

Brianna didn’t push for further details and they slipped into an easy silence, both watching the flames in the hearth as they danced and mesmerized. 

They must have dozed for when a fervent knocking pulled them back to general awareness, there was barely more than embers left. 

The younger man from earlier was out of breath. 

“Ye must come quick. There’s a man came to warn us off the raid just as the wagon were comin’ down the road. He said it was a trap and MacMurphy took him as a prisoner.”

Murtagh moved to stand too quickly and had to shake his head to wake himself up fully. 

“Did ye get—”

“Didna make our move,” the young man interrupted. “Murph said we ought to be safe rather than sorry and called it off. He’s got the fellow waitin’ for ye to see do ye think he’s one of Tryon’s spies or if ye believe his tale of having been sent to warn ye.”

As Murtagh moved to follow his comrade to whatever room the thwarted raiding party was holding their prisoner, Brianna made to join them. 

“You said you weren’t going to let me out of your sight till you delivered me safely to my parents,” Brianna reminded him. “So, I’m coming with you.”

With apparently no time to be lost, Murtagh yielded and held the door for Brianna. 


	4. Chapter 4

They slipped quietly through the shadows, following the man who’d come to explain that the raid had been canceled. He brought them to a small outbuilding nestled against the imposing forest at the edge of the city. Another of the Regulators was casually leaning against the side of the structure, trying hard not to look like the guard he was. 

“What happened?” Murtagh demanded. 

“As the frog. We’ve got ‘im tied up and gagged but as it’s you he says he’s come to speak wi’ MacMurphy’ll let ‘him talk for ye.”

Murtagh nodded at the man but, before he could push his way into the building, the guard stepped into the way getting close to Murtagh. 

“D’ye think he might be a spy? D’ye think Tryon might be settin’ him up to join us so he might get at us from the inside? This could all just be a move to gain our trust and bring the enemy in.”

“Ye sound like MacMurphy. If Tryon did have a plan for somethin’ like that, I dinna think he’d have the lad ask for me by name. Draws too much attention,” Murtagh replied, though now the idea had been planted in his head… 

“Who’s the lass?” 

“She’s wi’ me and she can be trusted. The door?”

The guard issued a quick series of knocks and the door swung inward to admit Murtagh and Brianna. She hung back, watching and out of the way. 

The man bound and sitting on a low milking stool looked like he might be thirty. His hair was dark and falling into his face, long but not long enough to be tied back. He was tall and slim, his limbs folded at angles that showed he would have needed a taller seat to be comfortable. His arms were bound in an odd way behind his back—not at the wrists but something that allowed him to be bound at the elbow joint. 

The prisoner lifted his head at the new arrivals, shaking his head to get his hair out of his eyes. 

He smiled. “ _ Mon dieu _ ,” he muttered, shaking his head with disbelief. “It really is you. Milord said but… I knew I could not believe until I saw you with my own eyes.” 

“Claims he kens ye and that he was sent to warn us by a man ye’d trust but he willna give the man’s name,” MacMurphy explained. “Whether the warning was warranted or no, we’ve lost our chance to make a move.”

The prisoner’s expression grew more serious. “Milord sent me to warn you that it was a trap the governor and his men arranged. They heard from a spy within your Regulators that you planned to raid the carriage and he filled it with his men and not the funds you seek. It was to Milady to distract the governor while Milord found me to send me with the warning.”

“Fergus,” Murtagh said, finally recognizing the man and moving to MacMurphy to take the blade from him and cut the lad free. “Christ, man.”

“Ye  _ do _ ken the man then?” MacMurphy asked, doubtfully.

“Aye. Last I saw him was near twenty years ago when he was a wee lad runnin’ messages for the Bonnie Prince and his generals,” Murtagh assured them. “The man what sent him is my godson and if he sent warning, ye’d best believe it’s warranted.”

Fergus rose and lightly shook his limbs to restore feeling. For a moment Brianna thought the man was rubbing his wrists but then she realized the fingers of one hand didn’t move and were a considerably considerably darker shade than the other—he was readjusting a prosthetic hand carved of wood. 

“If this warning was true and we’ve a spy amongst us…” MacMurphy said, keeping his voice low. 

“Aye,” Murtagh grunted. “Damn. It’s near as bad as Tryon succeedin’ in catchin’ us in the act. Goin’ to need to lie low till we can root the bastard out.”

“I cannae even begin to think who’d do it,” MacMurphy muttered, discouraged.

Murtagh scoffed. “I can.  _ Too _ many come to mind. We go to ground for now. I’ve a safe place I can stay for a time. I’ll assemble a list and leave it with ye to make inquiries while I’m gone.”

“What of him?” MacMurphy nodded toward Fergus. “If yer man sent him and has kens Tryon to be sendin’ word, could we no use them?”

“No,” Murtagh was firm. “The warning was courtesy. I asked did they want to join and was refused with an assurance we’d no be given away. I’ll no ask for more’n that. Besides, they’re acquainted wi’ Tryon but no too cosy.”

Brianna cleared her throat near the door, looking pointedly at Murtagh when everyone’s eyes turned in her direction.

“Should we leave the two of you alone to discuss this more?” she asked, nodding to Fergus. 

“No lass. I’ll be no more’n another minute,” Murtagh insisted turning back to MacMurphy and continuing in a low tone. “The list I send ye, I want ye to look at each man’s situation. Like as not the one betrayed us did so for a fee or a favor. See who’s no feelin’ the breath of the taxman so hot on the back of his neck as he was, eh?” 

MacMurphy nodded and Murtagh turned to leave, catching Fergus gaze watching Brianna intently. The lass steadfastly ignored Fergus’ attention, waiting for Murtagh to join her at the door. 

“Fergus, can ye come wi’ us for a spell? Or does Jamie need ye back soon?”

“Milord and Milady are staying with Marsali and I for the night. I do not want for them to worry but I do not expect they will do so for a while yet—not with the excitement at the theater if Milord is to be believed,” he explained. 

“I need to get back to the safe house wi’ Brianna here so I can make that list I promised MacMurphy. If ye can deliver it to ‘im on yer way home, I’d be grateful,” Murtagh requested. “And they’ll forgive ye at home when ye tell them ‘bout the lass here.” He turned to look at Brianna. “Fergus, I’d like to introduce ye to Jamie and Claire’s daughter, Brianna.”

Fergus’ eyes went wide and Brianna flushed so deeply it was visible even in the night’s dim light. 

“But… I must bring her with me,” Fergus sputtered. 

“It sounds like you have a full enough house as it is,” Brianna resisted. “I couldn’t possibly—”

“It’s no safe for the lass to be about at night—shouldna have brought her wi’ me now did she no have a streak of stubbornness to match her father. She asked me to bring her and the lass in her care safe to the Ridge. We were goin’ to leave come morning…”

“Milord and Milady are taking their leave tomorrow as well. If you go a ways and stop to rest, they will be able to catch you up,” Fergus said excitedly. “They will be so very pleased to know you are here,  _ ma soeur. _ ”

“I hope so,” Brianna said with forced enthusiasm. 

“It will be so,” Fergus insisted. “Though I believe it might be necessary to pick Milord up from the floor when I tell them. That is what happened when Milady returned to him, did you know? The shock brought him to a faint. To tell the truth, I nearly did the same when I saw her with him in the street and she me. The change in her is not so great as that she saw in me,” Fergus prattled on as they made their way back to the safe house. 

“Mama told you about me?” Brianna asked, curiosity and a hint of fear in her voice. 

“Not much. I mostly know what what she shared with Marsali—Marsali is my wife. We have a bairn,” Fergus explained with pride, the word sounding odd with his French accent. “It was difficult for Marsali to be so far from her own mother, especially when she was with child, and for Milady, it has been difficult for her to be without you. For both it eases their sorrow to talk and Milady, she talks about you.”

“Your wife sounds lovely. I should like to meet her someday.”

“Perhaps we will accompany Milord and Milady to see you on your way tomorrow. It will depend upon Germain and his moods. In a few months, we will leave here ourselves to settle on the Ridge and make our home there.” 

They reached the house and Brianna went in, bidding the two men goodnight. 

Fergus followed Murtagh into the kitchen and watched Brianna disappear while the older man gathered a paper and quill to quickly make his list. 

“She is like Milady, is she not?”

Murtagh snorted. “Aye. She’s the spit of her father wi’ all Claire’s confidence and candor, does it serve her well or no.” He handed the list to Fergus and told him where he’d find MacMurphy’s house. “Dinna linger and only give it into his hands. He’ll be waitin’ for it. And when ye tell Jamie and Claire about Brianna bein’ here… tell ‘em she’s safe and well and she’s a tale to tell.”


	5. Chapter 5

No one in Fergus and Marsali’s house slept well that night, first waiting anxiously for his return and whatever news he might bring of Murtagh and the Regulators. They knew the governor’s plan had been foiled but that only made Fergus’ prolonged absence more nerve wracking.

Of course, the news he burst through the door with was more shocking than anything they could have anticipated.

Brianna was in Wilmington. In 1769. She had been looking for them, seeking a guide to take her to the Ridge when she happened upon Murtagh.

Marsali was the one to tell Fergus to sit, keep his voice down so as not to wake the baby, and to start again from the beginning. As he went through his evening chronologically, Claire slid her hand into Jamie’s. His fingers trembled. Hers were cold.

When there was nothing left to do but go to bed and wait for the morning to come, Claire rose, gently rousing Jamie from his silent shock, and easing him to their room.

“Are you alright?” she asked quietly, having shut the door behind them. He looked dazed, sitting on the edge of the bed and blinking at his surroundings as if unclear how or when he’d gotten there.

“I… dinna ken. She… I hadna thought… Why? Why should she be here? What could have caused her to come through the stones?”

Claire stood in front of him and bent at the waist to press a kiss to his forehead, drawing his eyes up to look into her own. “You don’t think having a chance to meet you had anything to do with it?”

“I’m no worth the risk of the stones,” he asserted, a sad smile coming to his face when he saw Claire’s frown. “I still dinna ken why ye’ve no realized that yerself, but as ye’re here and I’m a selfish enough man, it doesna seem right to be pointin’ it out to ye too often.”

“It doesn’t really matter _why_ she’s here,” Claire said, showing how much she cared for his comments by refusing to acknowledge them. “All that matters is that she _is_ here.”

“Ye’ve missed her, Sassenach.”

“Of course I have. But as keen as I am to see her again myself, I’m more eager for the two of you to meet and know one another. You… have no idea how many times I wished and dreamt—hopelessly—that you could have known each other. It seemed… so unfair to both of you that you were never given that chance… And now you have it.”

“Claire… I dinna ken as I’m brave enough,” Jamie murmured. “What must she think of me? To send ye both away like that before Culloden… To go to that battlefield with a mind to die… There were so many days I had convinced myself that livin’ through it when so many were killed was punishment for wishing my life over, for tryin’ to end it wi’out doin’ it myself… aimin’ for the loop hole. And then now—takin’ ye away from her when ye learnt I hadna died. Forcin’ the truth upon her when she could ha’ gone her whole life without that weighin’ on her…”

“She knows the truth and she can make up her own mind about you,” Claire told him, sitting beside him at last and laying her head against his shoulder. “I’m the one who chose to leave. You had no say in it one way or another—and she knows that. She was the one who gave me the final nudge… Let’s not think about it anymore.”

“Ye ken well enough, _that’s_ no goin’ to happen,” Jamie muttered.

“Not unless we force ourselves to think of something else. What do you think are the odds that of all the people in Wilmington, she ran into Murtagh?”

“As if I dinna already have enough to thank him for, now I have his watching over Brianna and restoring her to us to add to the list.”

“I cannot wait to show off the cabin,” Claire said, lying back on the bed and staring up at the bed clothes. “She’ll be amazed to learn all about how you built it.”

“It’s no as impressive as houses are in yer time, Sassenach, I’m sure.” He lay back next to her, both of them with their legs hanging off the edge of the bed.

“There aren’t many homeowners who build their houses themselves. And she learned about hunting and camping when she was younger…”

They talked through some of the night and then fell into a silence that balanced their growing nerves with the desire to be away from the city and headed home with their daughter along for the ride.

* * *

Brianna spotted them before they were able to make out her and Murtagh through the trees.

“Mama!” she cried, freezing in place for a moment while Claire’s eyes scanned the brush.

“Bree,” Claire breathed when her eyes locked on Brianna’s. They both began to run but Brianna was a little faster. She nearly knocked Claire to the ground as she threw her arms around her mother’s neck and began crying with relief, rubbing her wet eyes against Claire the way she had when she was a baby.

“I’ve missed you, Mama,” she sobbed.

“I’ve missed you, too,” Claire assured her, too numb with surprise and relief to squeeze Brianna as tightly as she wanted.

“I have to tell you—I have to warn you,” Brianna pulled back, sputtering and sniffling, her eyes scanning the way Claire had come to be sure Fergus wouldn’t overhear. From the conversation they’d had the evening before, it didn’t appear to her that he knew the whole truth of Claire’s disappearance.

She lost her train of thought the moment her attention landed on Jamie.

He nodded at her with tears in his eyes and a trembling smile on his face. Claire turned, Brianna still firmly within her grasp.

“That’s him?” Brianna asked in a whisper.

“Yes.” Claire took a small step toward him and Brianna followed.

“You’re… really real,” Brianna observed, her voice still rough and barely audible. Her cheeks flushed with self-consciousness and uncertainty.

Jamie heard her and his smile took a more sure form.

“I ken what ye mean. I’ve seen the photographs yer mother brought… but they dinna do ye justice. And… I think I’d like to hear yer side to some of the stories she’s told,” Jamie mused, his gaze too eager to take in as many details of Brianna as possible.

Brianna looked to her mother and began to relax. “That depends on what stories she’s told about me.”

“Each and every one I can remember,” Claire promised her.

They were at last close enough to touch but Claire was the only one  who dared, keeping in constant contact with Brianna as though to anchor her in place.

“It’ll never be enough,” Jamie said, reaching a hand hesitantly to Brianna’s cheek. “I want to know everything there is to know about ye—what it was like to watch ye growin’ up what it is tha’s changed since ye parted… if ye can ever forgive me…”

She rolled her eyes and scoffed. “Forgive you? Why would you think you need my forgiveness?”

“What have I done that _doesna_ beg yer forgiveness? I wasna there to protect ye or care for ye. I didna help ye wi’ yer first steps or hold ye to help ye sleep at night…”

“You’re here now,” Brianna pointed out with a playful smile and tears in her eyes. “Or maybe _I’m_ here now.” She stepped up to him and slipped her arms around him, laying her cheek against his chest and sighing when his arms came up around her, holding her closer.


	6. Epilogue

Murtagh, Jamie, and Ian were at work building a cabin for Fergus and Marsali and Claire had taken Lizzie to help deliver a baby at one of the settler’s cabins several miles away, so Brianna volunteered to run back and forth fetching spare or replacement tools, bringing food and water, leading Clarence back to his pen when they’d finished moving the heavier logs into place for stripping and cutting. 

The mule was stubborn and reluctant to return to captivity after having a chance to stretch his legs and do more than pull a cart. Each time Brianna disappeared around the house to grab him some more food or check to see how the laundry was drying on the line, he made a ruckus when she came back into sight and stamped his foot to get her attention. 

“You’re like a toddler throwing a tantrum,” she muttered before rolling her eyes and heading to check on the goats and horses for their midday meal. 

This time he started making noises before she’d even reached an area where he could see her. But when she rounded the corner he wasn’t alone. 

“Roger?” she gasped, dropping an empty pail to the ground and running to him as he tried to dismount before his horse had stopped walking. She threw herself in his arms and buried her face in his neck. He held her tightly, sighing with relief. 

“You need a bath,” she told him, her words muffled by his coat. 

“Nice to see you too,” he chuckled, pulling back to look at her. She smiled then stood on her toes to kiss him. 

“Did Bonnet or his men give you any more trouble? They didn’t hurt you, did they? Is that why it took you so long to find your way here?” she rambled, her eyes roving over him taking in the details of his appearance to be sure he was really there and truly in one piece. 

He laughed again taking a step back to spread his arms so she could better see him. “I’m no injured. They gave me a hard time but it wasna anything I couldna handle—no after spending all that time wi’ them at sea. And it took me so long to get here because it’s a long bloody way from Philadelphia to Fraser’s Ridge when ye’ve naught but yer own two feet for much of the way—it has to be close to a thousand miles… or at least, it feels that far. I didna manage to find a horse I could afford till I’d nearly reached Virginia.”

Convinced by his cheerful indignation, Brianna grinned and moved to lead his horse to the barn while she filled him in on what she’d been up to in his absence. 

“Mama probably won’t be back until tomorrow but Da and the others will be home a little before dark. Come in and help me make supper and maybe I’ll let you have some too,” she teased. 

There wasn’t much left to be done as she’d accomplished the more difficult preparation earlier—dough for a pie crust, the meat (venison) cleaned and cut as finely as she could manage, kept that separate from the potatoes and carrots she’d diced. She rolled out the dough and began piecing the elements together while Roger built up the fire in the hearth. 

“How are ye doin’ wi’ everything?” Roger asked, taking a seat on the bench opposite and watching her closely. 

“It’s… been interesting. I’ve been hunting with Jamie and we’ve talked a lot. It’s strange, but not in a bad way… just… disorienting,” she told him, her attention entirely on the food in her hands as she stacked and arranged the pie’s filling, careful to make sure all the ingredients were distributed in equal measure. “It’s hard to explain. Every time I feel like I’ve got a handle on the past—on my childhood—I see something or hear a story and it shifts all over again. Like when I see him come up behind my mother and rub her neck… and she leaned into it and… I remember all the times I saw Daddy try to do that and she shrugged him off… until he just stopped touching her that way. I don’t think I’ll ever stop being surprised by him—by  _ them _ . You’ll hardly recognize Mama when you see her.”

“Bein’ in this time… it changes ye,” he agreed. “Makes sense now, how different yer mam could be after she returned—and no just because of Jamie. I ken I’ve a newfound appreciation for many a convenience I took for granted back home. Indoor plumbing and modern transportation bein’ verra high on that list. I’ll say a prayer of thanks each and every time I so much as  _ look _ at a proper toilet.” 

Brianna gave him a weak smile as she crimped the crust on the pie and turned to set it into the brick oven at the side of the hearth. The rebuilt fire was beginning to warm the space but it would take a while for the pie to be thoroughly cooked. 

“I’ll get you some water you can use to clean up,” Brianna said, puttering around the cabin to locate a bucket and fill it with warm water from the enormous cauldron near the hearth. She led him out the door and in the direction of a small hut. “Since Lizzie went with Mama and they shouldn’t be back till tomorrow, you can borrow her bed tonight. We can figure out something else in the morning. You’ll want to rest and brace yourself for meeting my father and cousin. Murtagh shouldn’t be too intimidating for you at this point. Blankets,” she exclaimed after setting the bucket down. “I’ll go find some.”

By the time she returned, Roger had managed to clear most of the sweat and dust from his face, neck, and arms. He’d pulled his shirt off as well and was splashing water over his chest and dribbling it down his back, not caring that it was soaking into his breeks and continuing on its way down the rest of his body. He had a single change of clothes in his pack but those weren’t in much better shape than what he was wearing. 

“Here,” Brianna said, showing him the quilt and furs she’d brought. She set them down on the bed along one side of the hut’s walls. She stepped closer to him, taking the ragged stock he was using as a washcloth and wringing it out thoroughly before wetting it again and helping him reach the difficult spots on his back. “Hmm. Much better. I’ll show you the creek we use for bathing in the morning. It’s a bit chilly but easier than trying to heat the water for a hot bath.”

“If that’s Lizzie’s bed,” Roger nodded to the one she’d put the blankets on, “then the other would be yers, I’m guessin’?” 

“You would be guessing right,” Brianna confirmed. “And… you don’t have to sleep in Lizzie’s bed if you don’t want to. It’s small but it’ll be warmer and cozier in mine.”

“Bree… I’ve missed ye—Lord knows I have—but… have ye changed yer mind? About marryin’ me?” he asked quietly. 

“I can’t,” she told him, tears in her eyes. “I just… it wouldn’t be fair to you. Not when things are so different now.”

“Different?” he asked, taking a step closer to her. “Different how? Ye still want to take me to yer bed. Tha’s no different, or am I misunderstandin’ yer invitation?”

Her cheeks went pink with embarrassment. 

“No, I still love you and want you to be the first man I… take to my bed, as you put it. But… spending these last weeks with Mama and Da… I told them about the fire. They’re not sure there’s anything that can be done to keep it from happening either. And we don’t know  _ when _ exactly it’s going to happen. It could be this year or the next or five years from now… But just in case we can’t stop it and the worst  _ does _ happen… I don’t want to regret that I didn’t spend more time with them when I had a chance to.”

Roger took a step back, his expression going slack as what she meant sank in. “Ye’re stayin’ here. Ye mean to stay no just for a few weeks or months… but years.”

“Yes. I remember what it was like to lose Daddy and how much I wished I’d agreed to go with him when he had to run errands or that I’d stayed at the office with him while he worked and I’d gone off with my friends instead. I want to know that I’ve done everything I can to save my parents and that I spent every second with them that I could.”

“And ye dinna think I’d stay with ye?”

“It wouldn’t be fair for me to ask you to,” Brianna pressed, her face getting redder as she forced herself to confess, “and I don’t want to lose you without knowing what it’s like to be with you, to show you how much I do love you.”

Roger laughed and the redness in Brianna’s face switched from the self-conscious shades toward those darker shades born of rising fury. But he rested his hands on her shoulders and smiled at her narrowed eyes and furrowed brow. 

“Ye’re not askin’ and ye dinna need to. Ever. If ye’re goin’ to stay then so am I. Ye love me enough to let me go? I love  _ you _ enough not to care where—or  _ when _ —we are, so long as it’s together.”

Her face softened and tears pooled in her eyes as she beamed at him a second before throwing her arms around him and kissing him silly. 

They laughed and held each other tight, Roger lifting her off her feet and spinning her around in the cramped quarters of the hut. Setting her down again, Roger kissed her softly, then again longer. She clung to the damp, bare muscles of his back, pressed herself against the length of him. They pulled back to look at each other, the simple joy replaced with the deeper yearning both felt. Neither said a word as Brianna pulled him toward her bed.

* * *

“The spare head should be right inside the barn door,” Jamie told Lizzie while Claire fussed with the dressing around his hand. “Be quick about it. Murtagh will be lookin’ for it. We wanted to be done wi’ preppin’ the beams ‘fore givin’ up for the day and he’s stubborn enough to try workin’ in the dark… And Ian’s foolish enough to go along wi’ it.”

“Oh, give them more credit than that,” Claire suggested, frowning at the cut on the back of Jamie’s hand from when the head of the hatchet came loose mid swing and flown off the handle. His reflexes were fast or he might have been in danger of losing the hand altogether. Instead it was superficial and shallow, a scrape across the back with deeper gouges at the knuckles. “Or give yourself fewer airs. If it weren’t for your mishap here, you’d be just as determined to work whatever the light conditions might be. Let’s get inside so I can clean and bandage this properly.”

“I need to tend yer horse,” he objected, moving to take the reins even as she reached to release the straps that held her medical box in place. 

“I can tend the horse while you go in and rest a few minutes,” she insisted. “See what we have for supper and—”

“Bree came back to make supper some time ago,” Jamie reminded her. “We hadna thought ye’d be back tonight.”

“Well, that’s what happens when the baby arrives before the midwife. All it took was a quick check on mother and child, a small glass of whisky to wet the baby’s head, and we were headed back the way we came.”

“Mistress Claire, Mister Jamie,” Lizzie exclaimed, running toward them with the spare hatchet head in her hand. “There’s a strange horse in the barn,” she informed them, her eyes wide and frightened. 

“Never mind about that,” Jamie told her calmly. “Get that back to Murtagh and Ian and stay wi’ them until they come home. Perhaps wi’ you waitin’ there for ‘em they’ll decide to just be done for the day.”

Lizzie nodded and headed off down the path. 

When she was out of sight Claire began calling for Brianna and Jamie went to check the house when she failed to appear. 

“There’s a pie cookin’ in the oven,” he told Claire, “so she’s no likely to have gone far.”

“And the ‘strange horse’ is in the barn so whoever it belongs to must be nearby as well. Perhaps they only went to fetch wood or to get more water,” Claire suggested hopefully. 

A moment later, Brianna emerged from the hut she shared with Lizzie. She brushed some loose curls out of her flushed face and smoothed her hands down the front of her bodice. 

“Mama… What’re you doing home? You weren’t supposed to be back till tomorrow,” Brianna remarked.

“The baby came quick,” Claire explained, her eyes narrowing at her daughter. 

“D’ye ken who the horse in the barn belongs to,  _ a nighean _ ?” Jamie asked. 

“Actually… yes. Roger arrived a little while ago. I was making up Lizzie’s bed for him since she was supposed to be with you all night, Mama. But I can put it back the way it was and he can sleep somewhere else. He’s cleaning up a bit from being on the road so long,” she told them, glancing back over her shoulder.

Roger poked his head out. “Good to see ye, Claire. I’ll right there. Dinna want to be sayin’ ‘hello’ still smellin’ of horse.”

“Mmmhmm,” Claire murmured, trying to keep a straight face as she turned to look at Jamie. He looked torn between laughter and shock. “We’ll be in the cabin when you’re ready,” Claire called to them, nudging Jamie in the other direction. “Your father hurt his hand and I need to clean it.”


End file.
